


Rise of the Stoat

by Marsh_Daisy



Series: "What Time is it in Darwin?" [2]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: F/M, Humor, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marsh_Daisy/pseuds/Marsh_Daisy
Summary: How will Noodle and 2D deal with the evolution of their relationship? Where on earth has Russ disappeared to? Does Murdoc's deal with the devil have any practical application? What happened to 2D’s 8 ball? And who the hell is Mrs Bunty?These questions and possibly a few others - no promises - will be answered in the thrilling tale: “Rise of the Stoat”.
Relationships: Noodle/Stuart "2D" Pot
Series: "What Time is it in Darwin?" [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069307
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Rise of the Stoat

The morning after my return from Japan - my second return from Japan in a month, it seems - I encountered Murdoc in the kitchen. 

He was leaning against the countertop, texting. “And she’s back! Was I supposed to throw a party? I ran out of helium for the balloons."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I really shouldn't have taken off again so soon without at least leaving a note. And it was wrong of me to steal 2D."

"You're goddamn right. Actually, thank you for getting faceache out of the house. Yeah, that part was fine."

I sat down at the table and after a moment he sat, too.

"Is this really what you want? This thing. With him."

"Yes. I ran out of reasons not to."

He groaned. "I can think of a million reasons starting and ending with him being a complete ponce."

“Deal with it."

"Well, keep it quiet. I can't stand the thought of hearing him squeaking and squawking." He shuddered.

"I'll keep my hand over his mouth."

"Yeah, til he stops moving would work for me."

Silence fell for a moment. He raised his head.

"You figured out what you were missing, then? You came back. I assume something must have gone right."

I nodded. “A relic from my past. Burned it to the ground."

If anyone could get behind that, it's Murdoc. He nodded and grunted. "Good, then. No looking back, that's what I say. Fuck the past. What's it ever done for me?" He stood, his chair screeching across the floor. "We're going out tonight. Be ready at ten. And you’re responsible for how 2Dork is dressed."

******************

Flipping through my closet, looking for something I hadn't worn in a while, I heard 2D tap on the door. 

"Are you getting dressed? I can come back."

"Better watching me get undressed?" 

"Well, if I had to make a choice, yes."

“Come in anyway, if you can handle the heartbreak.”

I tossed a dress on the bed, then rummaged for boots from among the pile on the closet floor. 

"I like this part very much," he said, sitting on my bed where he had a view of my backside.

I peeked around at him. His legs were drawn up and his arms wrapped around them. He had the air of someone settling in to watch a good movie.

"Would you like some popcorn while you enjoy yourself?"

He grinned. "That would be quite nice, please."

I crawled out with the boots I wanted. I needed tights with these; did I have a black pair? I stopped short to check out 2D's outfit. 

I think he looks cute in anything. But I have to admit his taste has evolved in a rather interesting fashion, pun not intended. He tended to wear his trousers on the high side. I suppose one can chalk it up to a midlife sort of thing. For photo shoots wardrobe dressed him. Left to his own devices, though- The pink shoes. The teal socks. The pleated trousers. The shirt with wee ducks on it- actually, that wasn't bad. I never like to admit Murdoc was right, but-.

I slipped off the top I was wearing and slithered the dress over my head. I emerged from the soft brush of pink spandex to find him smiling broadly.

"Is it all right if I say I'm already looking forward to taking that back off you later?" He gave a little sigh of happy anticipation. Then, "If you want me to, that is."

I leaned over to kiss him, then straightened to slither out of my shorts and underpants and head off in search of a pair of tights.

"You're making this a bit difficult." he quavered. "Do we have time? Right now?"

I checked my phone as I rummaged in a drawer. "I don't think so." I located my tights and wiggled into them. "Patience. I don't like to rush you, anyway." I felt warmly excited, and could easily have stripped back down in an instant, but waiting would make it better. I grabbed the boots and pulled them on. "We should get going."

"Right. Just. Give me a few seconds." He tugged a bit at his trousers, while I smirked and waited.

******************

As we headed out Murdoc gave 2D a glance and rolled his eyes. I shrugged. "He was like this when I found him." 2D looked from one of us to the other, confused. "Just get in the car," Murdoc growled. 

Sometimes it's nice to be famous. It's nice to hear people call my name when we walk into a club. Nice to get free drinks - though I always tip at least twice what they would have cost. It's one thing to be famous and another to be a jerk.

Once in the door, we slid into our regular booth. Drinks appeared like magic. 

I looked around. Lots of people here tonight. House music was on my friend Mickey, with whom we had worked before, and he gave a nod when he saw me. He made sure to hit some of my favourites next, and I downed my drink and headed to the floor.

There is no point in music without movement. If it doesn't hit your body in some way - make you dance, make you sway, make you tremble, make you weep - then it hasn't done its job. Music isn't good or bad; it either does its job or it doesn't. House music does its job, and I follow its orders.

A few other people joined me, and I moved from one group to another, hooking up with anyone who called my name. I dashed back to the table to down another drink, then back out. The dance floor was lit up in blue and red, and I felt pretty lit up myself. I made a trip to the ladies, and then back to our booth. Murdoc was gone. Russel was talking to a woman in a black dress. She was utterly stunning; high cheekbones and goddess braids shot through with silver. I leaned over to introduce myself. Sweaty and breathless, I plopped down next to 2D. He looked a bit forlorn.

"Come out and dance with me," I nuzzled his cheek and spoke directly into his ear, to be heard above the music.

He shook his head. "You have enough partners."

I teased, "Are you jealous?"

"I'm not sure." He hesitated. "We've never been out like this since we started- being together." He looked uncomfortable. "I just- I'm not sure how I'm supposed to act. Are we- are we public? With this?"

I deflated a bit. I hadn't actually thought about this. I'd been so concerned about Murdoc's reception to our evolved status, and then focused on the trip to Japan. I never considered this aspect. There have been rumours for years, of course - inappropriate and unfounded. I've refused to even respond to questions regarding our personal inter-relationships. Murdoc has had a few high-profile romances - if that's the right word. It almost certainly isn't. That was enough for fans to chew on, as far as I was concerned. Sometimes it's not nice to be famous.

I stared at 2D's slightly downcast face. I felt annoyed, and guilty for feeling annoyed. We had never been out clubbing since things had changed for us. He was right - we should have discussed it.

I was still mulling this over when Murdoc sauntered up and slammed a beer down on the table with a belch. He wiped his mouth, and said, "th' fuck is Russ?”

2D looked around in surprise. "He was right here a minute ago."

"Not my turn to watch him, Murdoc," I said.

"Only he-" another belch- "don't usually move much. Or at all."

"I don't remember him getting up.” 2D looked around. 

"Well, he was talking to that woman. What was her name?" I tried to remember; I'd been focused on 2D when I sat down. "Barbara? Babette. Maybe they’re off getting to know each other."

"Prolly on her knees in the gents," cackled Murdoc.

"No, that's your scene," bit off 2D. Old wounds. "That's not Russ."

One of my dance floor friends touched Murdoc's arm, then quite sensibly pulled her hand back quickly as he turned on her.

"You're looking for Russel, he left with that woman what was chatting him up. "

"There you have it." I leaned back against 2D. "Go finish getting wasted. You're not quite there yet."

"Right. Right. That's. Uh. Right." He moved back toward the bar, where a man in dark glasses and blinding yellow shirt was waiting for him. Goodness, a shady looking fellow. Shocking. 

2D snaked his arm around me, slightly under the level of the table, and stroked the side of my breast.

I shivered. "You're not mad, then."

"I'm not mad at all. Just- confused. I- maybe still haven't got this all sorted in my head."

I settled more firmly against him, enjoying the solidness of his body against my back. The light brush of his fingers was melting me.

"Well, we haven't- hang on." I hated trying to compete with the sound system. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to shout. "Let's go outside."

I stood, pulling my dress down over my backside; it had become rucked up a bit as I sat. I reached out for his hand and we left the club together, a few people raising their glasses and waving goodbye.

We walked around the back, into semi-darkness that seemed all the darker after the strobes and spotlights. Once we got to the car I backed him up against the drivers side door. My heart was racing, my breast still tingling from the soft touch of his hand. I pulled his head down to kiss him, burying my hands in his hair. Bad me: that's the surest way to get him out of his clothes and inside me in a heartbeat. Not right to do this in a public place. Had anyone seen us, the concerns he expressed would become moot immediately.

The same thought must have occurred to him. He pulled away from me.

He swallowed, and stood looking at me for a long moment.

"Do you have the keys?" I asked.

"Yeah. I nabbed 'em from Murdoc as soon as we got here." He reached into his pocket and withdrew them.

I took them and unlocked the car. He shifted out of the way as I reached further in to unlock the back door. Then I closed the door and returned the keys to his pocket, sliding my hand down his hip as I did so.

He was blocking the back door, thus the next move was his. I could tell he had the same picture in his head as I did: steam on the windows, my dress hiked up to my waist, his trousers down around his thighs, our arms wrapped around one another as he slammed me. 

He looked down at me. "I'm not making a decision about our future standing in a car park in Soho. I'm not as dim as all that."

And he walked away from me. He really did.

******************

I watched him until he was around the corner. Then I climbed into the back and slumped down on the seat, furious with myself. 

Stupid stupid stupid.

He always went with whatever I wanted, always let me take the lead. All I had to do was reach out and his hand was in mine. Most of my life - since I was ten.

When we got back together at Kong I was in my teens. I cleaned out the studio - performed a few cleansing rituals along with actual cleansing. Zombies everywhere. It was a wonder I accomplished anything. I called Russ, texted 2D, and they came straight out to help. But I had almost an entire album done by the time they got back. Murdoc - who was in jail in Mexico at the time - tried to take credit, of course, but Russ and 2D saw. I wasn't a child any more.

The cyborg didn't age, and maybe that's why they weren't quite sure what to make of me once I was in my 20s. They had to come to terms with the fact that I was a woman. And I had come to terms with how I felt about 2D.

Stupid stupid stupid.

I waited so long. Dodged so many questions. Loved him as I loved all of them: as my weird best friends, my frustrating inspirations, my irritating but ultimately perfect band-mates. Hid my feelings. Bit back words. Waited.

And when I felt it was time - I made him mine. When I reached out, he put his hand in mine, and this time I didn't let go. 

And I just assumed he would just keep going along with whatever I wanted. I never thought his wants might differ from mine.

Stupid stupid stupid.

*****************

I stayed in the car until I could calm down. While I thought about what to do next, Murdoc scared the hell out of me by opening the passenger door and yelling my name. 

"Are you in here? Bloody hell, where's everyone gone? I'm done."

I sat up, hoping the darkness hid my smudged makeup. "I'm here. I just needed to get away from the noise for a bit. You want to go already? We just got here."

"I'm bored. I can't find Russel. And I can't find that other one. I'm r-r-ready to go and my fucking driver's diss-peared."

I really wasn't worried about Russel. If he was off getting some, more power to him. He's been light in the love department; why should we have all the fun? Remembering where my fun had led me, my chest grew tight.

"You haven't seen 2D?"

"No. He's got the fucking keys and he's gone off somewhere and I hate him."

I climbed out of the car. I quickly wiped under my eyes with a finger, trying to smooth out my eyeliner, and ran my fingers through my hair. I could hear laughter and voices of people drifting out of the club, and I suddenly realized how this looked: I'm getting out of the backseat of the car, disheveled and shaky, with Murdoc leaning on the roof, standing in front of me. There were a thousand ways this could go wrong.

And here was the first one, walking toward us with the keys in his hand.

I wanted to shrink back into the backseat of the car, but I couldn’t.

Instead, I moved to stand between 2D and Murdoc. "We were wondering where you were."

He looked from Murdoc to me and back again. "I'm just here. Saw you leave."

"About fucking time." Murdoc sank into the front seat, slammed the door, and closed his eyes.

2D stared at me for a moment, while words rose and fell in my mind. I couldn't choose any.

At length he walked silently to the driver's side and got in, and I had no choice but to slip back into the backseat.

He sat in silence with his hands on the wheel, then said, "What about Russ? You see him?"

"No." I sniffled. "If he left with that woman then good for him. If he needs us he'll call."

"Right. Right. All right then." He turned the key and we pulled out of the car park and headed back to the house.

Between the two of us we got Murdoc out of his boots, and rolled him onto his bed to snort and snore the night away. After we closed his door we stood looking at one another. Again I felt words bubbling up but was unable to allow any of them to break the surface. 

2D turned and shuffled down the hall to his room, and closed the door.

I walked to my door and managed to get inside before tears came. I kicked my boots off into the closet - remember a hundred lifetimes ago when I knelt looking for them while he admired the view? I ripped off my dress - remember a thousand years ago when I pictured him stripping it off me? I yanked off my tights and stood naked and crying and unable to think of what to do next.

My tears receded after a few minutes and I thought about a shower. I was sweaty and I needed to wash off my makeup. I grabbed my robe and quietly tip-toed to the bathroom. I snuffled and sniffled through my shower, but I did feel better when I was done. I wrapped a towel around myself and slipped into my room.

I put my robe back on and sat down on my bed. Emptiness filled me as silence surrounded me. I heard 2D open his door, head to the bathroom, and then return. I picked up my acoustic and sat with it on my lap. After fifteen minutes, I set it back down and curled up on my bed.

A tap at my door. I jumped up, my heart pounding. "Come in."

He was in his robe, too, his hair still damp and smelling like apples. He didn't walk any further in, just sat down on the floor with his back against the door and looked at me.

"I'm sorry I left you like that, and I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. I would never do that on purpose."

I nodded, even though I wasn't sure he could see me.

I could just see him in the dimness of the moonlight filtering through my curtains. He was sitting the same way he had been on my bed earlier: knees drawn up, arms around his legs. There was no relaxation in his pose, though; I could feel his tension from across the room.

"I didn't feel like anything changed, really - after that first time. It just felt like something that was supposed to happen." He paused for a moment, lost in thought. "And it was just ours. Even after Murdoc found out. It was still just ours and it felt right."

He shifted his weight and leaned forward a bit. "Then tonight we're in the club and everyone knows us and they all want you and I thought, well this is it. This is when it changes. This is when people say they knew it all along or he’s too old or wonder if they-" He swallowed hard "and it's not ours any more. It belongs to everyone to pick apart. You've kept your life private and none of us ever asks what the others are doing but when two of us start- Then. It's different. And I dunno if I want that."

He stretched his legs out in front of himself. "You have plenty of people to dance with. You don't need me. Dunno what you do need me for, really. When you asked me- all've a sudden I couldn't think of a reason. I felt like whatever we have can't last under those lights. It's too bright and when everyone sees us it will get ruined. But there was no way I could tell you that just then. And I thought we could go out and talk and then you wanted to- and we were still right out there- but we hadn't talked about it. And that wasn't fair. You knew I had something to say and you wouldn't let me say it."

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have behaved like that when I knew you were conflicted."

I got down off the bed and sat next to him. He turned and put his arms around me.

“You want to keep it all to ourselves - we never have to say a word. I promise. You want to let the whole universe know - I'll be right there to cut down anyone who has a problem with it.” 

He was quiet for a few minutes, and I searched my pockets for a tissue. I didn't find one, so I wiped my nose on my sleeve. There was no way I was getting up off the floor just then.

"S’all right if we take some time to think, then?"

I kissed his cheek. "Take all the time you need. I was certain when I made you mine. You be certain you want everyone to know it."

He reached out and ran his hand along my jaw, and pushed my hair out of my face.

He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my lips, lingering for several heartbeats. He slipped my robe back off my shoulder a bit to kiss my neck, drifting downward til he reached my breast. I closed my eyes and leaned back, letting my robe slide off the rest of the way til it fell in a puddle of silk around my hips. He reached around me and slid his hands under me to lift me up. I went off-balance and gave a little screech which he stopped with his mouth. Still kissing me, he headed to my bed, but I had left that damn pink dress on the floor and his feet got tangled in it. What started as a romance movie moment ended with me on the floor with a banged bum and him rubbing his knee and his head, which he bonked against my bedpost. "2D! Do you need ice?" He turned to stare at me in wonder. "No, it's- it's just me." I clambered to my feet and held out a hand to him. He hopped up and said, "I'll try that again." This time he just lifted me up and dumped me unceremoniously on the bed, then dropped his robe and joined me. He took his time, as I said I wanted hours earlier, while he watched me get dressed. He kissed me, and stroked me with the lightest touch, leaving me arching my body to press myself more firmly against his hand. He brought me along slowly, watching my reaction to everything he did. After I came, he slipped inside me and I was off again, my body shaking. His skin was so smooth and warm; I stroked his back and then clenched my hands into fists as I managed one more just before he finished. He worked to steady his breathing for a moment, and dropped his head to rest it on my shoulder. I stretched my leg out and wound it around his, and we drifted off to sleep.

******************

I woke up with his arm draped over me. Reached blearily for my phone. Just a bit past ten. 2D rolled over, taking most of the sheet with him. No matter. I was awake. Head aching, but awake. 

I staggered downstairs to find something to eat. The fridge was a constant source of surprise. Today I found a cream cake with "Happy Birthday Marvin" iced on top of it, half a carton of soy milk, a peanut butter sandwich, and a mother stoat with three babies. As the latter hissed at me, I closed the door and perused the cupboards instead.

Cereal seemed the safest bet, but I ate it dry, not wishing to disturb the stoat again. 

The newest issue of NME was on the table. I picked it up and leafed through, looking for stuff about us first. A second more thorough paging followed.

Murdoc was the next down. He went straight to the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, then sat.

I wisely kept my silence, but that wasn't enough.

"Will you stop with those pages rattling!" He laid his head down on the table. "What's to eat?"

"Try the fridge."

He rose to stare into its depths for a few seconds, then closed it. 

"Who the fuck is Marvin?"

"No idea."

He opened the fridge and stuck a finger in the cake. I heard the stoat hiss again.

Murdoc made a face and wiped his finger on his pants. "Whoever he is he has bugger-all taste in fillings. Raspberry cream."

He returned to the table and his ice pack. "Where's your brainless boyfriend?"

I glared over the top of my magazine, though he couldn't see me. "Still asleep. Hope we weren't too noisy last night."

"Right. Thassit. I'm done here." He stood with a grunt and headed to the living room.

Peace and quiet again. Smelled better, too.

I read for a while, and then gave the stoat some of the cake.

******************

A shopping trip seemed in order. 2D wasn’t in my bed, so I tapped on his door to find him semi-dressed and sorting through a pile of laundry, looking for a shirt. I asked him if he wanted to accompany me to Aldi. We drove in comfortable silence. He enjoys shopping with me because I let him climb on the back of the trolley so I can push him around. We separated for a time, and I found him among snackies, with a bag of crisps in each hand. 

“I dunno how much of this sort to get?”

I shrugged. “Get ‘em all.” I wandered about, wondering what the stoat might want to eat. I figured we ought to get her out of there before the day ended, but the least we could do is make sure she had some healthy food. She’s a nursing mother.

I came across 2D poking melons. I wanted to stroll up and poke his bottom, but a promise is a promise. Instead I walked over to help, but the look on his face stopped me short.

“Are the melons being mean to you? Which melon needs slicing? I’ll cut them.”

He looked at me blankly. “Only he doesn’t do this, not really. Being gone is all well but he wouldn’t have left without saying nothing? We were right there.”

"Well. We were sort of- involved, weren’t we? He might not have wanted to interrupt.”

He returned to his melon-poking. “He’d call then. Something.”

I didn’t argue further, merely grabbed the melon 2D had abused the most and tossed it in the trolley.

******************

That evening I threw frozen chips on a sheet, stuck them in the oven, and sliced up some veggies. Murdoc was in the studio mixing something up. He nodded at the dinner invite. I went upstairs to ask 2D to dinner, and found him sitting absently on his bed again. Clearly Russel’s absence was preying on his mind. He smiled at the mention of food, but then stared at his floor moodily.

“I lost my 8 ball.”

“Your what?”

He pushed a pile of- something around with his toe. “I had a magic 8 ball thingy I got at my dad’s amusement park. I had it and I don’t know what I did with it.”

I glanced around his room. There are very good reasons he always comes to my room. There was a pile of reasons over in the corner, and a stack of reasons on his desk, and a lopsided tower of reasons by the bed. 

“Would you,” I choked out, “like me to help you look after we eat?”

“Nah. I’ll jus’ keep looking.”

“Why do you want it?”

He hesitated. “I’ll tell you later.”

We had a nice dinner, with very few incidents of violence, either overt or implied. After dinner I took the pillowcase from my bed and we coaxed the wee mum out of the fridge, with a combination of cajoling, reasoning, and creative threats. But treats worked the best, and 2D managed to nab her with the pink oven gloves on his hands. He lost the vote 2 to 1. Murdoc and I reasoned that he didn’t need bite-free fingers to sing, and even his keyboard could be played with one finger, leaving nine free to be stoat food. He didn’t find this logic reassuring, but gamely reached in as soon as we got her near the edge of the shelf. He placed the unhappy stoat and her confused babies in my pillowcase. We settled them in a box just outside the back door, near the bins. I left dinner for her, and returned to the kitchen for washing up.

Russel did not return that night.

******************

The next day Murdoc headed into the studio after breakfast, and I joined him for a bit. I stretched out on the studio sofa and spent some time listening to a band from Swansea; their guitarist had a unique sound. Then I helped edit some of Murdoc’s mixes.

2D wandered in after lunch and sat in front of the piano, practicing scales. 

Murdoc headed out after a while, nodding to me as he left. “In a bit,” he said and I heard him grab the keys and slam the door.

“You know,” I remarked to 2D, “this leaves us alone in the house. Unchaperoned.”

The scales stopped.

Murdoc would have a fit if he knew what use we put to assorted pieces of furniture. We experimented with varying amounts of success. As always, we finished in a bed. But we ended up in his bed for the first time; he simply walked past my door and held his open.

Laying with his head on my chest a bit later, he said, “I know you’re not wild about my room. I just sorta wanted some memories in here, you know?”

I did know. The smell of him on my sheets was a constant comfort to me. I could ignore the mess for just a-

“Also I never did find my 8 ball yesterday. I was going to take you up on your offer to help me look for it.”

Oh.

He hopped out of bed and yanked on a pair of pants from the top of his dresser - not the floor, thank goodness. I had only a vague recollection of where our clothes had ended up downstairs, and made a mental note to get down there and find them before Murdoc came across a pair of 2D’s underpants draped over the back of the sofa or hanging from the kitchen light fixture. Either were a possibility; things had gotten hazy.

He started rummaging through the rest of his drawers, but he wasn’t looking for more clothes. “Maybe you could look through my desk?” he asked hopefully.

I looked at the precarious pile of notebooks, comics, his blue melodica, a hat, one of his bobble-head figures from a few years back, a half-dozen vinyls, and several CDs. A slight touch would bring it all down. 

“Can you at least tell me why you’re looking for it? You said you would.”

He paused, the contents of his bottom dresser drawer scattered around him. “You’ll think I’m stupid.”

“Never in my life have I thought that,” I answered, fascinated by the sheer volume of items emerging from the half-pulled out drawer.

He sat with a Guns and Wankers concert shirt in his hand. “I want to ask it about Russ. It’s been right before!” he said defensively, even though I had not spoken. “It was right about me losing my trainers in Brighton. And about Murdoc slamming my face into the roof of the car.”

“How can it be right about those things?” I asked, bewildered, “It only answers yes or no questions.”

“Yeah, only I asked it if Murdoc was going to hit me that night and it said yes.”

Clearly it meant something to him, and the least I could do was help. I popped into my room to grab some clothes, then returned. I started moving the items of the mess on his desk to another section, from where I would no doubt be relocating it to a third spot mere minutes later. I had no hope of finding the 8 ball, but he asked for my help and he doesn’t often. I became engrossed in the job after a time. That word is accurate in disturbing ways. I found two shoes that did not match one another, and seven socks of which the same could be said. Green paisley cumberbund. Four empty bottles of body spray. Two pair of underpants. If these were in his desk, were there pencils, papers, and rulers in his dresser? I shook my head to clear it, and shifted further over to attack the row of drawers on the other side of the desk. That’s when I heard a cry of triumph from under the bed.

He emerged with the black 8 ball in his hand. "There's something sticky on it," he said, and scampered off to the bathroom to wash it off. He came back and sat down next to me.

"Did you try calling him?" I asked gently.

"I'm not a complete prat. His phone is dead."

"Oh." I felt foolish and condescending for asking.

"So here goes. First we ask if it knows."

He shook it up and the wee floaty thing came rolling to the top: "yes."

"Okay, where is he, then?" He shook the ball vigorously.

"That's not a yes-or-no ques-"

I really need to shut up. He showed me the ball. Surrounded by tiny bubbles, one word:

"Trouble."

******************

Neither of us spoke for a long time. We heard the front door slam open, heavy footsteps, and "oh, for f-f-fucks sake!" which led me to suspect he had discovered 2D's underpants.

We ran downstairs to find Murdoc dragging the sofa through the back door. So they did end up there. I grabbed the other end of the sofa and pulled.

“Stop! We can just get it cleaned!”

2D stood watching this tug-of-war for a moment, then quietly dashed over to nab his underwear. He didn’t run back upstairs because Murdoc was safely outside, blocked by the sofa.

With a final effort, Murdoc pulled it free of the door frame, taking half the moulding with it. He pulled a pack of matches from his pocket.

I rushed out. “There’s no reason to burn it!”

“Think of it as banishing evil spirits.” He fixed me with his bloodshot eye. “I’ll not have this back in my house.”

“You still don’t have to set it on fire!”

He opened his mouth to yell again, then his eye fell on the stoat’s dish. It was empty. He looked back at the sofa. “Suppose Mrs Bunty might like it? For the babies?”

I nearly choked. “Mrs Bunty?”

His lip curled up a bit. “I’ll leave it out here for her. You shut up about it.”

2D had disappeared up the stairs, no doubt having had a vision of Murdoc strangling him with his own Calvin Kleins. Murdoc fed Mrs Bunty, and left some treats on the sofa cushion. When 2D slipped back down a bit later, I said, “We need to tell Murdoc about the 8 ball.”

“You think he'll believe me?”

“No. He might believe me, though.”

******************

We approached him in the studio. "Murdoc, we need to talk to you."

He looked up from the stool, bass resting on his knee, then back down. "I'm not giving 'im your hand in marriage."

"It's Russel. This isn't like him. If it was me, or you- but it's not. His phone is dead. We think he might be in trouble."

"Why?"

"Cause my 8 ball says he's in trouble." I don't want to say 2D was hiding behind me. I don't want to say it.

I had the plastic globe in my hand, and held it out to Murdoc.

He grabbed it and stared at the big number 8. "Ah, yeah. Yeah, I see. It says Double-Dent is an empty-headed mouth breather who's dragging my guitarist down into the loony bin with him." He handed it back. "Good information to have."

I shook my head. "We asked if it knew where Russ was and it said yes. When we asked where it said 'trouble'. We're worried."

Murdoc plucked a string a few times, and admitted, "Yeahhh, me too." He held his hand out for the 8 ball again. He shook it up and then stared at it. 

"Says 'twat'."

2D squeaked, "You have to actually ask it something, Murdoc, else it just says whatever's on its mind."

Murdoc bared his teeth at 2D and then regarded the shiny black sphere. "R-r-right. Is our Russel in trouble?"

He bounced it a bit and held it out in front of him. We watched as the word "yes" floated up, flipped and revealed the word "idiot."

He asked through clenched teeth, "Where is he then?"

"Nowhere." Then, "here."

"Fuck this- which is it?"

"Mind."

"Mind what?" Murdoc was screeching at the 8 ball now, and I feared for its safety. And ours. "Mind what? What am I supposed to mind? Mind the gap? The baby? The bloody exchange rate?"

He agitated the ball again and the murky message read, "they need it." Then it rolled over to a regretful, "that's all I got."

Murdoc sat and stared at it pensively for a few minutes, his left eye twitching a bit. "Right. Right. We go to the club tonight and interrogate everyone. I have my ways of getting answers."

2D ducked as Murdoc threw the 8 ball at him. 

"Oh, another thing- Be a good girl and order up a new sofa."

******************

It had been a lot more fun strutting into the club a couple nights ago. Murdoc went straight to the bar. I headed over to talk to Mickey and see if I could spot anyone I had danced with. 2D looked around, trying to decide where to be. He hadn't really talked to anyone that night. The woman - Babette - hadn't introduced herself to him. She only responded to me because I spoke first.

Mickey shook his head. He steered me to one side and said loudly, "I saw her, all right. Woman that fine is hard to miss. But I only saw her once. Don't know who she is."

I thanked him and kissed his cheek. I scanned the crowd from the booth. This really was the best way to see the whole floor, so I stayed with Mickey for another ten minutes or so, until I recognized one of my friends.

"No, I never saw no one with Russ," Chloe responded to my question, sounding distressed. "Fact is I thought he was asleep."

That sounded right. I turned to her boyfriend, who shook his head.

Murdoc was speaking animatedly to one of the bartenders, gesturing wildly. The bartender continued to shake her head and matched Murdoc glare for glare. She finally pulled a citrus juicer from behind the bar, and leaned in to speak quite earnestly into Murdoc's ear. He left the bar rapidly.

"She has a hell of an imagination, I'll give you that," he said, his hands covering his crotch. "You find anything?"

I shook my head. 

"I talked to the coat check," 2D spoke up.

We turned to look at him.

"Only she sees everyone who comes and goes, right? That woman came in with another woman, and a younger guy. Then they went out and waited, and Russ left with the woman a few minutes later. She heard ‘em talking to each other - says they had American accents."

"She didn't have an accent, I don't think," I said, confused. "But then, I actually only got her name. Probably wouldn't have noticed, not with how loud it was."

"And you two having your little lover's spat," Murdoc growled. "Clearly they kidnapped Russ right out from under you while you squabbled over who gets to be on top."

"I wouldn't fancy a trip to America," said 2D.

"Nobody in their right mind does," said Murdoc. He fixed 2D with a steady gaze for a moment, then turned and headed out of the club.

******************

Where to go from here? We couldn’t imagine he’d have just taken off to America with them. His youth there wasn’t a happy tale: it was one of demonic possession, exorcism, and Death in a black hoodie. Russel is a receptacle for spiritual activity. Demons and people have wandered through his head like it was Waterloo Station since he was a teenager. That made adolescence a challenging time for him. More so than usual.

That's why the 8 ball's response to his location really upset me: they need his mind. What was going on in there? Was someone else in there with him? A person? A demon? What did they want?

And it sure didn't help us figure out where Russel's actual body might be.

Like 2D said, we don't inquire much into each other's lives. All of us have empty patches here and there. We all have our mysteries. Murdoc had been in and out of jail and in hiding with admirable consistency. We still have no idea why 2D was living in Beirut before Plastic Beach - and neither does he. And of course Russ has several periods I couldn't account for - and I never would have asked. Nothing to point us in any direction.

We all headed straight to bed when we got back from the club. I wasn't in the mood for snuggles and 2D just squeezed my hand and headed to his room.

I changed into my purple hamster pajamas and hopped into bed. After a few minutes I picked up my phone to find some music. I spent nearly half an hour scrolling and scanning and picking out things that I stopped listening to after a few seconds into the intro. I gave up and lay staring at the ceiling for a while.

Something moved me to tiptoe downstairs to the studio. I walked over to Russ's drum kit and sat down on the stool. I gave the hi-hat a ting with my finger, and hit the bass a couple of times. I waited to see if anything would come to me. I closed my eyes but saw nothing but inky blackness. I opened them to the dimness of the studio.

"Didn't work for me either." Murdoc muttered from the studio sofa.

I nearly fell off the stool. "Murdoc! You scared me to death."

We sat in silence for a bit.

I'd started to focus on a thought. "They wouldn’t take him to New York. They wouldn’t take him far."

"Hunh. Howdya’ figure?"

"If what they want is his mind, why take his body far away? There's no point. It would be easier to keep him close by. They could start doing- whatever- as soon as possible."

Murdoc sat up. "That makes sense."

There was a noise at the door and 2D appeared. "I can't sleep."

Murdoc laid back down. "Now my night is complete." 

2D grabbed the stool from his keyboard and sat between us, a bit closer to me. "I was thinking I might be able to feel him or somethin’ if I sat in here."

"It's a popular theory. Not working so far." I tapped the bass pedal again, listening to it echo away. My thoughts seemed to float off with the vibrations.

Murdoc stood and started walking back and forth, over to the doors and back. "Close by. Bloody narrows things down."

2D looked at me inquiringly. I repeated my theory, such as it was.

"That makes sense." 2D nodded. 

"Gah, it was easier to think before you arrived. You filled the room up with imbecile vibes. It's blocking my braining."

He was pacing more rapidly, his grungy boxer shorts flapping as he turned, his inverted cross bouncing against his chest as strode back and forth.

2D stood up and walked over to interrupt his path. He reached out and touched the cross to stop its sway.

“Murdoc, you made a deal with the devil, right?” 

"You take your fucking hand off-"

"So can’t you ask him-”

"-before I bite it off and-"

"-to send a little demon- or something?"

"-beat you to death with it!"

2D squeaked, “A demon could pop right into Russel’s head, right? Have a look around. I mean, demons have been in there lots of times before- he's like catnip to them-"

"Catnip?"

"You know what I mean!”

Murdoc took a step back and looked down at his cross as though he had never seen it before.

"That might work." I said slowly. "You could at least try."

2D was still standing in front of Murdoc with a hopeful expression. He did, however, have his arms over his head.

Murdoc's face creased in thought. His eye twitched. His lip quivered. He was clearly fighting a mental battle between recognizing that 2D actually had a semi-promising idea and wishing to tie 2D up and let Mrs Bunty's children chew on his toes.

"I'll need some time alone." He growled at last. He left and we heard his tread on the stairs a moment later.

I went over to 2D and put my arms around him. "That was a good thought."

"Only he never shuts up about it. All the sixes and what-nots. Gotta be some use." He pulled me in for a tighter embrace. His heart was pounding and he was damp and sweaty. "I'm still alive," he marveled.

I reached up to run my hands through his hair. "We should go celebrate."

******************

Murdoc spent the morning in his room, a vast enigmatic chasm of insanity and evil, which reeks of incense, hell-fire, unwashed socks, and moldy cheese.

Apparently the summoning of demons, while possible, is a delicate proposition. One needs the right candles, the right herbs, correct alignment of the celestial bodies - that sort of thing. He also spent some time rummaging through his black steamer trunk looking for the notarized copy of his contract with Satan.

He brought down a pile of books and parchments, and spread them out about the living room. He’d have to move all that once the new sofa arrived. By nine a.m. the room contained his complete set of Satanist handbooks, stack of notepads, a quill and inkpot filled with suspicious crimson liquid, a set of crystals he’d picked up at a jumble sale, and two statues of Pazuzu - one wearing a fez, the other an Eton tie. 

I stepped carefully over a bundle of hawthorne branches tied with a pastel-striped ribbon and a box of what looked liked teeth as I made my way to the kitchen. I found 2D already at the table, working on the maze on the back of the cereal packet. He looked up when I came in.

“I should have used a pencil. Did we buy one box of these, or two? I need a fresh copy.”

He had made tea, I was happy to see. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

He shook his head morosely. “I don’t understand why it took him so long! Just pick a chant and be done with it! And did it need to be so loud?”

Murdoc burst through the doorway. “That’s as much as you know, you knob! I needed to calculate the harmonic structure vis-a-vis the residual echo versus doppler reverberation in accordance with celestial vibrations.” He grabbed the cup of tea I had just poured. “Plus it sounded fucking bitchin’.”

Murdoc made a piece of toast and went back to his runes and moons, popping out back for a moment to grab one of Mrs Bunty’s babies. He was rotating them. He said they all deserved a chance to get to know their Uncle Murdoc and Mrs Bunty didn’t mind. Since his fingers were all intact I chose to believe him. When I went into the studio he was sitting splay-legged on the living room floor, using a compass to track points on what looked like a holiday map of Cornwall. A small stoat was poking its head from Murdoc's dressing gown pocket, and seemed quite interested in the goings-on.

2D joined me in the studio about a few minutes later. He sat at Russ’s kit for a few minutes, spinning on the stool. Then he said, “Can we get out of here for a while? Maybe go see my parents?”

It's a bit over an hours drive. His parents were lovely people, and their company was pleasant and relaxing. And perhaps a small detour on the way back? A little splendour in the grass? That sounded good to me.

“I’m in. I’m going up and change.”

We once again picked our way through the living room, earning grunts and glares from Murdoc. The baby stoat glared at us, too. 

I changed quickly into shorts and a tank top, and then went to knock on 2D’s door. He was just pulling on a t-shirt. “I’m ready! Who’s driving, then?”

I paused. “What do you want to tell your parents? Won’t they want to know that you’re involved with someone?”

“Oh, you know they gave up on me years ago. They don’t ask any more.” He tied his shoe and stood up, grabbing his wallet from his dresser. “Ready?”

“But you actually are now. Involved with someone. Me, in fact.”

He stood looking a bit blank.

“And I wondered whether you might want them to know.”

“Hadn’t really thought about it.”

I clasped my hands in front of myself to keep from strangling him. “Maybe you should think about it. Before we go there? And they ask?”

He shifted from one foot to another. “Maybe the topic won’t come up?”

I gave up. We headed out into the sunshine.

******************

David and Rachel Pot are two of the nicest people one could ever wish to know. I've met them many times over the years, and they always welcomed me warmly. Mrs Pot was a pleasant if slightly fussy woman. Mr. Pot was a friendly man, very proud of his son and all he had accomplished. We had a lunch of fresh veggies and homemade bread. Conversation was loud and enjoyable, as they talked about 2D's childhood, and the places we had travelled to, and what Mr Pot was up to at the amusement park. After lunch I helped Mrs Pot clear, and then we put some sweets on a tray with a pitcher of lemonade. We headed to their back yard to chat. It was the very picture of domesticity. Not having had any of this when I was a child, I envied 2D a bit. His childhood held such blissful normality. Not much since then, though.

I settled onto a cushioned rattan chair, Mrs Pot arranged herself on the love seat, and 2D perched on the ottoman opposite me. Their yard was a jumble of furniture, vegetable gardens, and pieces of machinery in various stages of completion. Mr Pot was a tinkerer and a genius at building things.

There are times you can completely forget about everything: fame, music, amnesia, summoning demons - all of it. Peace and stillness surrounded me. Mrs Pot brought 2D up-to-date on some family news, and I watched his face as he listened and smiled and laughed. I slipped my shoes off and wiggled my toes in the grass. Birds were chirping, a breeze was playing with my hair, and Mrs Pot was asking if I was seeing anyone.

Shit.

I took a biscuit off the tray and stuffed it in my mouth to buy time. Damn him. I gave him a desperate look. His face was blank.

“Well, as it happens," I crunched and swallowed, "I guess you could say that as far as relationships go - Stu and I are kind of in the same situation.”

Mrs. Pot gave an airy laugh. “Oh, you know - I never bother asking him any more. So many girls - and they just never stay around. I suppose it’s that rock star life. It must be hard. His father was quite the ladies man, too,” she reminisced. “Takes a special woman to make a fellow like that settle down.”

2D was turning a beautiful shade of pink. It was so pretty, like watching a sunrise.

"Not that everyone needs to settle down at all, of course," Mrs Pot added. "Not everyone wants to move out to the country and plant a garden." She gave another airy laugh. "But it is nice to have someone to share your feelings and enjoy life's special moments with. Someone who loves you for exactly who you are. A best friend, really."

I couldn't take my eyes off 2D while she spoke. This was exactly what he was to me. And I hoped with all my heart he was thinking the same thing.

Mrs Pot had stopped talking. She looked at me, and then at her son. She smiled warmly and took a long sip of her lemonade.

We got ice cream on the way home. We drove through gentle hills and colorful pastures. We found a birding trail, and grabbed the blanket out of the boot and took a walk. And we spread it out in a wide field and made love among the wildflowers. The sun beat down on our bodies and then dried our sweat. We lay surrounded by the perfume of the flowers and the soft buzzing of the bees. A cricket landed on my leg and I just watched him wander around a bit and hop back off. We named off all the wildflowers we recognized, and then lay on our backs, holding hands, watching the clouds drift across the bright blue sky. 

******************

We returned around two - to chaos, as we suspected. Slightly more organized chaos than previously, but chaos nonetheless. Murdoc lounged on the recliner, among his occult collection, watching Tipping Point on his phone. One of Mrs Bunty’s babies was curled up on his lap.

“What are you doing?” I asked, staring at the scattered assortment of evil-ness.

He looked up. “Waiting for you lot. Plus there was a bit of a hold-up. Needed to run to the city for a few things” He stood carefully, nestling the baby stoat in his arm, and gestured to the box filled with scented candles that had been in the kitchen. “These aren’t right at all, are they? Can’t use soy for this sort of thing.” He opened a large cardboard box. Another one of the babies - Ruby, I think - was chewing on the corner. When had I started recognizing them by name? “Look! Got 12 dozen of these - limited edition with gold leaf Baphomet on ‘em! Not your everyday sort, these.”

“Do we really need that many?”

He looked at them thoughtfully. “Well, good to have around if a fuse needs mending, eh?” He picked up another of his purchases. “Look at this, though! Complete celestial and zodiacal chart, with all details of the physical and metaphysical universe in an easy-to-read format. Look, it’s laminated. In case the blood splatters.”

2D turned green at the mention of blood. 

"There's not room enough up here. I'm going to use the bigger basement room so I can chalk all the magic symbols on the floor."

Had I ever wondered what was the proper wardrobe choice for an important interview with the prince of hell, I can die fulfilled. It involved a pair of black drainpipes, his red cape fastened with a diamond brooch, his cane with the skull on it, and-

2D snickered and asked, "What’s with the pink fuzzy slippers?"

Murdoc looked at him blankly. "Because the floor is cold."

Murdoc held four candles, a small plastic container that made a suspicious sloshy sound, a chalk, and rolled up parchment. 

“Right. I'm going down now. You may hear screaming and wailing and desperate pleading. If that happens-”

2D nodded. “I know, right: don’t disturb you no matter what.”

“Bloody hell, no! Get your arses down there and save me!”

I stepped forward to shake his hand. “We’ll be here waiting. Go forth and ride into the valley of death.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “There are other more inspiring poems you could quote. Right. Off I go.”

And he opened the basement door and descended.

2D and I looked at each other. What do people usually do while their housemate invokes the lord of darkness in the cellar? Watch Bake-off? I thought at least I should return Ruby to Mrs Bunty, so I went out back and placed the baby on the cushion with her family. There was a battered copy of “The Wind in the Willows” sitting open-faced on the arm of the sofa. He was reading to them. 

I walked back in. “2D, you have to see this-”

2D was standing by the top of the basement stairs. And so was Murdoc, looking stunned.

“What happened? Wrong color candle?”

“Maybe he doesn't like lily-of-the-valley,” put in 2D.

“He’s in the basement.”

“Satan? Would he like some tea?”

Murdoc shook his head. 

“Russel. Russ is in the basement.”

******************

There are three sections of the cellar. The first one has odds and ends of furniture, an old television set, and a tan metal wardrobe. A smaller nook to the right holds the washer and dryer, and Murdoc's homemade portal, door half-closed. The third area is separated by a plastic accordion door, which was left closed, and contains only a half-dozen jumbled boxes of lampshades, books, odd kitchen tools and the like. 

It also contained Russel.

He was floating horizontally about four feet above the floor. His hands were clasped over his stomach and he was breathing slowly and easily. He was still wearing the shirt and pants he'd had on in the club.

Russel napping was a familiar sight. Russel napping with nothing beneath him was not.

None of us spoke for several minutes.

"He was like this when you got here?" 2D whispered.

"Aye," said Murdoc. "All set to spread out and work my dark magic and he's in my way."

"Should we try waking him up?" 2D asked in a tremulous voice.

"I tried," replied Murdoc. "Couldn’t."

Russel's face was peaceful enough. What was going on behind it?

"Best leave him for the moment," Murdoc said. "He's safe anyway. Right the fuck here the whole time."

"They must have brought him here from the club, before we left."

"But why?" 2D asked plaintively, "Why kidnap someone only to take them to their own home?"

"Like I said," I murmured, "They don't need his body. Just his mind. They could do what they needed without having to transport him a second time."

“Why stick him down here?”

“They probably needed the space.” I whispered, “the sofa was still in the living room at that point.”

2D poked me. “You know what this means, then?”

“What?”

He gave a smug smile. “My 8 ball was right.”

Murdoc was silent. He stared at Russ for a few more seconds, then turned and headed to the stairs. 2D and I followed.

******************

Now Murdoc had more reason to leave his occult goodies strewn about the living room. Instead of focusing on contacting the dark realm, he started researching exorcisms. I'm not sure the needle on my irony meter could go any further. 

"It wouldn't be the first time someone decided to take up residence in Russel's roomy noggin. Whoever they are, they're trespassing. I'm set to evict their thieving arses."

As disturbing as it was to see him, I found myself wandering downstairs to watch Russ sleep. There was nothing I could do, but knowing his body was safe was somewhat of a relief. If we had him, we could help him.

I touched Russel's hand gently. He had been my friend for 20 years. He was often the calm voice of reason when Murdoc and 2D went too far. He had saved my life. We would fix this. We would have our Russ back.

******************

I went up to find Murdoc back on the recliner, deep in thought. Another of Mrs Bunty's babies was snuggled on his bare stomach. I tip-toed through quietly, not wanting to wake up the baby. A startled stoat on his bare stomach was the last thing he needed. I went into the kitchen to find something for dinner.

2D shambled in a few minutes later. "Did you see where he has Frederick? And he calls me a twit."

He sat down at the table and immediately stood back up because he'd forgotten to make any food.

I offered to cook for Murdoc when he stumbled in at last. He must have let Frederick out first. He scratched his stomach while he considered it.

"No, probably not the best idea. I've seen a film or two and apparently vomiting is involved upon occasion."

2D looked down at his peanut butter sandwich in alarm. "So- so do you need us to help?"

"Oh, I want you down there all right. When you cast out a demon they sometimes fly out of the host and take up residence in the nearest empty skull." He gave 2D a penetrating look. 2D whimpered slightly.

Murdoc was dressed in the same get-up as the night before. He was holding the satanic bible and a regular bible. Hedging his bets. He already had the inverted cross on a necklace; presumably it could be held up in either direction depending on Who needed invoking.

He stood at Russel's feet, and directed us to stand on either side. Then he pulled out a vial of water.

"Is that really-" I started.

"Nipped down to St. Aloysius last night, yes. Now be quiet while I recite the- the- the recitation."

He cleared his throat. "We command you, whoever you are, who are occupying the brain in this man's body to get yourself out or suffer some sort of consequences."

2D said offhandedly, "I thought it would be more specific."

Murdoc stared at him from under his thick brows. "You start out vague and then get to the meat and potatoes if they give you trouble."

"All right" he continued, once again in pompous tone, "Whoever is in there, I command in the name of every demon and/or angel you can name, not limited to any particular philosophy, that you exit right quickly or I shall be forced to sprinkle you with some water that you won't like a bit."

"Still not very specific," whispered 2D.

I was gazing at Russel's face, and I fancied I could see a change: his skin looked completely smooth. There was no longer any expression to be seen.

While I was scanning Russ's face, I heard a scratching above us. Something was moving around in the living room. We all froze, staring at the basement ceiling. The scratching paused for a moment, then continued. It was headed in this direction.

"Right. Right." Murdoc tried to sound nonchalant. "That probably has nothing to do with this. I'm fairly sure."

The scratching sound had turned into more of a skittering sound, and I realized it had entered the kitchen. 2D and I exchanged a quick look, then we both sidled over to hide behind Murdoc. This was his show. He could damn well protect us from whatever he had conjured up.

The skittering sound came closer and closer, and stopped at the edge of the basement stairs. We held our collective breath.

Mrs Bunty poked an inquisitive nose over the top step.

I nearly collapsed in relief. "The door still doesn’t latch properly. She's probably looking for something to eat."

"Maybe she misses the refrigerator," suggested 2D.

The stoat snuffled around for a moment or two, then raised its head. It opened its mouth but I did not hear the squeak I was expecting.

"If one of you can explain this, I'd be grateful."

It was Russel's voice.

******************

There was dead silence. 2D and I stepped out from behind Murdoc and peered warily at Mrs Bunty.

“And why is my sofa outside?” he added.

“R-R-Russel. What are you doing in Mrs Bunty?”

“Mrs Bunty?”

“You’re a stoat,” 2D said, trying to be helpful, “named Mrs Bunty.”

“No, I am Russel and I’m looking at my body floatin’ down there and asking for an explanation.”

Murdoc made a motion to hide the bibles and holy water behind him.

It was not a gesture lost on Russ. “You did this?” The incongruence of Russ’s deep voice coming from fuzzy Mrs Bunty was causing me to choke.

“Let’s go upstairs and we can talk about it,” suggested 2D. “And we can have a snack. We got you some mealworms at the pet shop-” I jabbed him in the ribcage with my elbow.

We headed up, Murdoc trailing behind. His green skin was damp with perspiration. Russel’s wrath might not be easy to take seriously while he stood a foot tall and was covered with soft silky fur, but once we had him back in his own body- Things were not going to go well.

We sat on the living room floor to accommodate Russ, pushing Murdoc’s infernal inventory out of the way. 2D dashed into the kitchen and brought out an apple for himself, and a dish with some ferret food mixed with freeze-dried beetles. He set that on the floor.

Russ stretched his neck to look into the bowl. “You must be kidding.”

“Well, you’re a nursing moth-” began 2D, earning another elbow in the ribs from me.

Murdoc still had not spoken. Russ fixed him with one bright, beady eye. “Explain.”

I bought time for Murdoc. “Remember going to the club the other night? You met that woman, and you left with her. Then you didn’t come home at all."

Russ shook his head. "Don't remember."

I continued nervously, "So 2D checked his magic 8 ball and-”

Russ’s glance flickered over to 2D and back to me.

“-it said you were in trouble. And we weren’t sure what to do and then 2D had an idea that Murdoc could contact a demon and maybe get a message to you? But when he went down to invoke the forces of darkness, you were already there. So we thought someone must be possessing you so Murdoc did an exorcism. But- It looks like the only one in your head-”

“Was me.”

“Was you, yes.” I sat quietly, mentally reviewing all of the words that had just come out of my mouth. 

Murdoc spoke for the first time. “I swear on all the demons of hell, Russ, we thought we were doing it right.”

2D said, “I told you - you weren’t being specific enough.”

This utterly, tragically correct statement earned him a bonk on the head with the holy water bottle.

Russel was nosing in the dish a bit. “Can I try those mealworms?”

2D headed back to the kitchen to get them.

“Okay. First off, we have to figure out how to get Russ back into his body,” I began. “Would he go straight in, or do we risk him ending up somewhere else?”

Russ looked up. “I’d prefer a hedgehog next time.”

"Second, we need to get Mrs Bunty back in her body.”

“That’s really an issue?” Russ asked, mealworm hanging from his mouth.

“Only the babies will be missing her,” explained 2D.

Russ dipped his head back into the dish.

“Third,” I continued, “We still need to figure out how to wake up Russ. Maybe take a different approach,” I admitted.

Murdoc had been sitting with his arms wrapped around himself, staring at the stoat the entire time. “I did. I just said whoever’s in there get out. That’s what I said.”

Russ looked up from his dish again. “It worked.”

“Right,” said Murdoc decisively. “R-r-right. All we need to do is reverse the thing. Call on the demons and whatnots to put Russ back in his body. Then we figure out how to wake him up.” He stood with an air of determination. “I’ll get a new ceremony ready in no time, and he’ll be right as rain. I’ll- hey, your daftness over there-” he addressed this to 2D, “can I get my holy water back?”

2D looked around, located it, and tossed the bottle to Murdoc. Murdoc turned with a dramatic swish of his cape, and went back down to the basement.

“Call me names if you like,” muttered 2D, “but I’m not the one who stuck our best friend in a weasel.”

I stood up. “Russ, I’m really sorry, but I have to take you outside for a bit.”

Russel gave me a rabid look.

2D nodded in agreement. “It’s time Mrs Bunty fed the babies."

We carried Russel out to the sofa and the babies were overjoyed to see him. They started clamoring for a drink. 

"This one's Frederick," 2D introduced Russ to his children, "and this one's Ruby. We haven't named the third one."

Russel looked at his squirming babies. "Still not the weirdest thing that ever happened to me." He seemed resigned to his role of family provider. He laid his head down on the cushion and closed his eyes.

We spent what was left of the evening fretting over the reverse exorcism. Inxorcism? Murdoc was sweating it, and I have to admit my faith in our resident master of the dark arts was flagging a bit.

We brought Russel and the babies inside - he wanted to watch Father Brown Mysteries and wouldn't leave his children outside alone. 2D was feeding him non-stop; that aspect of being a young mother may have proved appealing.

******************

It was late by now, but I was still afraid sleep would be hard to come by. We headed to bed separately, but after he took a shower 2D tapped and I was happy to have company. An eminently pleasurable reassurance that we were not alone in our concerns. I drifted off with my head on his chest, his steady breathing matching mine.

I dreamed we went for a drive, and got ice cream. When we got home the door was jammed. I shook the knob and pushed, and every key he tried proved either too big or too small. I woke up distressed. It was clearly allegorical - fear that our own happiness in our relationship apart from the others might cause so great an alienation that we would never be able to find a home with them again.

Or- maybe I was actually hearing the door being rattled.

I woke up 2D and put my hand over his mouth before he could speak. The rattling repeated itself. I got out of bed and tip-toed to the window. I could see nothing; my room is at the back of the house. 2D beckoned to me from the door and we slipped down to his room. His window overlooked the front of the house. There was a strange car in the drive.

The rattling had stopped. Were they leaving, or had they gained entry? We moved toward Murdoc's room as quietly as we could. His door was open and he was nowhere to be seen.

2D and I descended to the first floor, and headed to the kitchen. He paused to open the drawer by the stove and carefully pull out a knife. It was a cake-knife; unless our trespasser was a Victoria sponge it wasn't going to do much good. The basement door was open. We caught up with Murdoc halfway down the stairs, and saw he had armed himself with the largest butcher knife in the house. Sensible. He motioned us to stay behind him. Not a problem.

The accordion door that separates the two sections of the basement was partway open. Murdoc moved across the floor like a cat, and pushed the door back.

A woman paced nervously along the wall to the right, while a young man sat on a cardboard box near her. Another woman stood by Russel's head. Her hands were on either side of his face, a touch that was almost a caress.

In the gloom Murdoc spoke. "You need to step away from him or I will slit your throat."

******************

The woman by the wall - clearly Babette - gave a little scream, and the one by Russ's head spun around to face us.

"Did you do this to Russ?" I asked. I felt my heat rise and adrenaline start to flow. That fight-or-flight kicked in and I had no intention of flying.

Babette took a step forward, then froze at the sight of Murdoc's knife.

"It’s my fault. This my best friend. She’s a psychic-”

“Kimberly Sybelle Gaetane Aretha Wilson.” She looked to be about the same age as Babette. A silver headband held thick black hair back from her face. She wore a loose black tunic with purple leggings.

"You all know what happened to Russel in New York, all those years ago. My brother Frank was with him that night."

I felt my tension loosen.

"His girlfriend was pregnant. She asked me to take Frankie-” she gestured to the young man- “and I raised him alongside my two daughters. One day my granddaughter Maya was watching YouTube and saw this video - she wanted to show me the monkeys doing the Thriller dance. I looked and I said 'my god, that's Del!' And there was Russ. I asked Kimberly if she could contact Frank if he was living in Russ's head like Del. Frankie could have a chance to talk to his father for the first time."

"So you came all the way here?" My heart was aching for her - how hopeful and desperate she must have felt.

She nodded. "I'd do more than this for any of my children. We caught up with all of you at the club, and I convinced him to come outside and talk. Kimberly got him to sleep a little bit-”

I shook my head at this, and Babette said, “I know- It wasn't the right thing to do, but I wasn’t sure what he would say. I couldn't bear to have come all this way for nothing. We brought him on home-” 

2D interrupted, “Why’d you put him all floaty like?”

Kimberly looked at him blankly. "Because the floor is cold."

Babette continued, “Before she could see if Frank was there, we heard you come home - we thought you’d be out all night and we would have plenty of time. We kept trying to come back but there's always someone here. I was getting worried so we risked coming over while you all were home. We were afraid something had gone wrong."

"Something is definitely wrong," said Russ from somewhere near my feet. Babette located the source of his voice and screamed again.

******************

Confusing and conflicting and confabulated explanations commenced. Certain things were glaringly omitted by a certain Satanist.

"I would have helped you," Russel said gently, patting her knee with his paw. "All you had to do was ask. But Frank isn't in here, Bab. Del isn't either. Been gone a long time."

“I did all this for nothing," whispered Babette. She placed her hands over her face. 

"You showed his son how much you love him. That's not nothing."

"I'm so sorry we caused you so much worry.” Frankie said humbly. “Things didn't go as planned. And maybe the plan wasn't such a good idea, either."

"Sometimes we make our biggest mistakes for the best reasons," Russel comforted him.

Murdoc shifted uncomfortably. "So- things being as they are now- in that Russ is a sort of ferrety fellow at the moment-"

Kimberly fixed her eye on him and spoke sharply. "You did this? Cast him out of his own body?"

"Well, we didn't think he was the only one in there, right? Not an unreasonable conclusion, given his history, I'm sure you'll agree. And let's be fair: you didn't leave us much to go on."

She stared at him. "You have contact with the Lower Planes?"

Murdoc chuckled. "I do have my connections, yes."

"You have a plan to fix this?"

Murdoc waved his hand airily. "Of course, course I do. Not a problem. Only- seeing that you're right here-"

"Enough. Step back, Beelze-baby."

Murdoc watched avidly as Kimberly set to work. She placed her hands on either side of Russel's head, palms at his temples and fingers stretched down along his jaw.

Suddenly Mrs Bunty sat straight up and looked around in confusion. 2D's voice quavered from her, "Was this supposed to happen?" 2D, still standing next to me, looked down at himself, and then up at Kimberly. Russ’s voice rumbled from 2D's mouth, "I'd prefer to remain in the weasel, please."

"I did- mention- empty heads," muttered Murdoc.

Kimberly narrowed her eyes. 

Mrs Bunty dropped back to all fours. 2D blinked and shook his head as Russel left his body. He picked up Mrs Bunty and petted her.

Russel's face twitched, and he opened his eyes, squinting even in the dim light. "That's more like it," he said. Kimberly lowered him gently to the floor, and he sat up, rubbing his back. He turned around a bit to look at Kimberly. "Thank you." Then he stood and went to Babette, and held her gently. "I'm sorry, Bab."

******************

A midnight meal was in order, and that's what we did. 2D and I drove to the Chinese restaurant that was open til two, and brought home enough to cover the table.

We found Russ, Bab, and Frankie deep in conversation. Frankie's eyes were bright and fixed on Russel. Bab had a look of- if not contentment, at least acceptance.

Mrs Bunty was on the wing-back chair with her babies. I wondered if she was aware that she had been gone, that she had lost time. I felt a tug of kinship.

In the corner of the room, near the grandfather clock, Murdoc sat in a kitchen chair, looking like a schoolboy facing the headmaster's wrath. Kimberly laid out his mistakes one by one. He tried to blame 2D for starting everything, but she snapped at him, "Don't you blame that simple-minded sweetheart. Don't use him to cover your own incompetence." Murdoc lapsed into grudging silence.

Gradually conversation blossomed to include everyone, and we shared food and stories. I want to think everyone came out the better after this emotionally draining night. Frankie found comfort in Russ's stories about his father, Babette had shown such love and devotion- even if coupled with bad judgment. Mrs Bunty had her body back, whether or not she knew she had ever lost it. Murdoc got a dressing down, which gave Kimberly some satisfaction.

I had vegetable lo-mein and 2D's arm around me. I was good.


End file.
